


Be Pleasant, But Get a Witness

by panpipe



Category: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpipe/pseuds/panpipe
Summary: He knows Anthony feels a responsibility to his siblings — he’s always implied as much, in everything he’s done. He’s taken on the dual roles of father and head of household without so much as a second thought.But unlike his younger brother, Gregory, Anthony Bridgerton isn’t the only father figure Colin has ever known. He remembers his father, Edmund, who died when he was just eleven, with perfect clarity, in the pure way only a boy who idolized his father ever could.Anthony can never be his father, no matter how hard he tries.+++Colin Bridgerton comes home for Christmas and is tired of Anthony acting like his father, not his brother.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Be Pleasant, But Get a Witness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueteak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/gifts).



> Hello, dear recipient! I hope you enjoy this. I love the idea of exploring Colin a bit further, thinking how he might have been when he was younger and how that would impact his relationship with Anthony. Thanks for the wonderful prompt!

> _When you deal with your brother, be pleasant, but get a witness._  
>  —Hesiod 
> 
> London, England  
>  December 1807 

Colin Bridgerton is _tired_. Specifically, he’s tired of dealing with his eldest brother, who hasn’t stopped being on his case since he came home from Eton for the holidays.

“Benedict,” Colin whines, staring at his brother from across the table. “Why is Anthony so _boring_ and _serious_?” 

Benedict looks up from his sketchpad. He laughs. “And what’s inspired this particular outburst today?”

Colin sighs theatrically. “He says I need to quit cricket!”

Benedict rolls his eyes. “You _did_ break your arm, Colin. He has a point that it’s dangerous.”

Colin’s sigh this time is real, not for dramatic effect. It’s bad enough he’s stuck with this stupid sling, but having _both_ brothers on his case? That’s the last straw.

“All sports are dangerous somehow. Why am I being singled out like this?!”

Benedict stares at him owlishly before breaking out in uncontrolled laughter. He wipes the tears from his eyes. “Colin. You’re the only one of us who has ever taken an active interest in sports. And Gregory is too young to worry about.”

Colin pouts. “You could all worry a bit less. Anthony’s practically hovering about me every second of the day right now. I feel suffocated.”

Benedict shakes his head solemnly. “You know asking Anthony to stop mothering you is like asking the sun to stop shining.”

Colin _does_ know this. It doesn’t make him any less annoyed. At sixteen years old, he feels perfectly adult enough to make his own decisions. Besides, Anthony isn’t even that much older — he’s twenty-three, just finished with university. He’s walking around the house and around London like he has something to prove, and it’s aggravating the hell out of Colin. He’s more insufferable than ever.

It doesn’t help that every time they walk around London he has to deal with all the debutantes giggling and pointing at Anthony. Sure, he’s handsome, but don’t they realize he’s nowhere near ready to settle down yet?

He knows Anthony feels a responsibility to his siblings — he’s always implied as much, in everything he’s done. He’s taken on the dual roles of father and head of household without so much as a second thought.

But unlike his younger brother, Gregory, Anthony Bridgerton isn’t the only father figure Colin has ever known. He remembers his father, Edmund, who died when he was just eleven, with perfect clarity, in the pure way only a boy who idolized his father ever could.

Anthony can never be his father, no matter how hard he tries.

Anthony is snappish and thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t have the life experience to back it up. Anthony _doesn’t_ know everything, and it’s annoying when he tries to use his high and mighty voice to tell Colin what’s best.

What Colin Bridgerton needs isn’t a father — it’s a _brother_. Anthony was _good_ at that part. He’d been the best brother a boy could ask for.

Until he’d decided he couldn’t be anymore.

It’s not even that Colin is particularly obsessed with cricket. It’s just, well, he’s good at it, and his friends seem to think he’s pretty cool for being good at it, and it’s not like he has anything better to be doing with his time. He knows he has only a handful of career paths available to him after university — the clergy, the military — and he doesn’t want any of them. Taking away cricket takes away his excuse at having a purpose, and nothing scares Colin more than not having a purpose.

It’s different for his brothers. Gregory is too young to care. Anthony has his dedication to the Bridgerton family. And Benedict — well, Benedict didn’t seem to care much. He’d always been a little different from the rest of them.

Colin was different too. He couldn’t sit _still_. There wasn’t a single bone in his body that was satisfied with anything, and if Anthony took away his one opportunity at school to get rid of that nervous energy…

He suspects the Headmaster won’t be too happy with him.

The sound of Benedict’s voice shakes him from his reverie. “How long did the doctor say you’ll be out of commission?”

Colin sighs. “Eight weeks to be safe.”

“That’s rough,” Benedict says, affirming Colin like a good brother should. Good. No more silly nonsense about quitting sports.

“Did Colin mention how the doctor said it’s one of the worst breaks he’s ever seen?”

Colin groans.

 _Anthony_.

“But it’s setting just fine now,” Colin whines.

Anthony sits on one of the available chairs, spreading his legs wide as he leans back. He looks like he owns the entire house, which, well. Actually, Anthony _does_ own the house. He pouts.

“You have to take better care of yourself,” Anthony admonishes. His voice is stern, and, like always, filled with the implication he’s the only one who knows best.

Colin struggles not to roll his eyes. If Anthony catches him, he’ll make a fuss about it.

Benedict, bless him, must have noticed Colin’s struggle. Just as Anthony is clearly about to go into a long lecture of exactly how and why Colin should take better care of himself, Benedict speaks.

“I was just telling him the same thing,” he says, winking at Colin to let him in on the fact he’s not serious about it at all.

Anthony doesn’t pick up on it. He nods, seemingly satisfied to know that Colin has heard it from both of his elder brothers. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the lecture. “I just want to make sure we are all setting a good example for Gregory.”

Colin wants to rip his hair out. It always comes back to Gregory, it feels like.

“Gregory is _six_!” Colin squeals in frustration. “He’s not going to be playing anything this serious for a long time.”

Anthony glares at him, and Colin bites his tongue to keep from screaming. When Anthony is like this, raising his voice doesn’t help matters.

“He’s already begging to join the little league you joined. He looks _up_ to you, Colin. You have to set a good example.”

Colin pouts. “I didn’t ask him to look up to me.”

Anthony sighs, rubbing his fingers at his temples as he continues to slowly lose his temper. HIs voice is harsh when he continues speaking. “We don’t ask for a lot of things, Colin, but we accept them anyway.”

Colin can’t help it then, because it’s the most Anthony thing he’s ever heard: He rolls his eyes.

It starts the second, more intense part of Anthony’s lecture. “I didn’t ask to take care of our family when Father passed away. But you do what you have to. Mother needed help, and there was no one else to do it. You were a child then, and you’re still a child now. But I did what needed to be done, to keep this family going. If you could just remember even half of that sense of responsibility —”

Colin stands so abruptly the chair scrapes loudly across the floor from the motion. 

“I’m going to my room,” he announces.

He has to get out of there before he explodes. His brother doesn’t understand his temper, and since their father died, doesn’t know how to relate to him anymore. They’ve struggled to find their balance ever since, but it just isn’t working.

He knows how to quit while he’s ahead. Anthony is too stubborn to know better, and _one_ of them has to be the bigger man.

If there are undeniable facts about the Bridgerton family, one would certainly include the fact that Anthony Bridgerton is an insufferable, arrogant idiot.

Another would be that there are simply too many Bridgertons.

But the best and most obvious fact would be that Violet Bridgerton is the most perfect mother in the entire world.

He doesn’t know how she realizes it, but within minutes, she knocks at his door. She always knows when he’s upset.

“Can I come in, Colin?”

He’s been staring at the ceiling counting to one hundred, so it isn’t like he has anything better to do than talk to his mother. “Of course, Mama.”

Violet Bridgerton is a vision. It’s not just her looks — which are, of course, very fine. All the Bridgertons are beautiful, something Colin is grateful for. No, it’s simply that Violet Bridgerton shines with the most wonderful, kind, and open heart known to this earth. She knows her children’s aches and pains and heartbreaks often before they even realize what’s happening, and she is always, always able to soothe whatever is bothering them.

Colin Bridgerton doesn’t think he’ll ever meet a woman as perfect as his mother, even though Benedict tells him he will. Benedict is a bit off his rocker though, so he can’t be trusted.

She sits at the edge of his bed, and brushes his hair away from his face.

“You know Anthony means well, don’t you?”

Colin lets out an audible and exaggerated sigh in response.

Violet laughs. “ _Colin_!” she exclaims. “Be serious.”

Colin rolls his eyes, but replies seriously as asked. “I know, Mama.”

“He hasn’t had it easy,” she continues.

Colin fights the urge to roll his eyes again. “He made things hard for himself,” he says, annoyed. “That’s the worst part. He gets on his high horse about how hard it’s been taking care of us all, but— but no one asked him to!”

Violet smooths his hair absent-mindedly. It has a calming effect. 

And then she surprises the hell out of him.

“I probably did,” she says softly.

Colin looks at her, eyes wide.

She smiles at him. “Grief is a difficult thing, Colin. Everyone handles it differently.” She stares off at his window, eyes focusing on something outside of his view. “I think… I think I needed someone to support me. I think Anthony knew that.”

Colin hasn’t heard this from his mother before. He hasn’t heard her be vulnerable like this with him.

Colin stares at the ceiling for a moment before speaking. When he does, his voice is light and joking. “Does he have to be such a jerk about it, though?”

It makes his mother laugh, takes the sadness away from her eyes. He thinks that she is right, that grief is indeed something everyone handles differently. 

He wonders if that’s why he wants everyone to laugh so much. If that was the need that he’d sought to fill in the aftermath of his father’s death.

The next time Anthony mentions him quitting cricket, the family is relaxing in the parlor after dinner.

This time, Colin doesn’t turn it into a joke. He explains, very seriously, that cricket is the only thing Colin has to look forward to at Eton. That without it, Colin finds it hard to go to school at all.

Colin wonders if Violet spoke to him, because he doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t raise his voice. He just explains, softly, “I am still your older brother, you know. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Colin nods, and decides to take a chance. 

“Would you mind acting more like a brother, and less like my father, then? I miss Father, but I miss having a brother more.”

Anthony flushes. Stammers. Then falls silent.

“I’ll try.”

Colin nods solemnly in acknowledgement. Then he shouts, grinning, “Benedict, you heard that, right?”


End file.
